A Night at the Museum
by QueenCheetah
Summary: AU- Even a master thief can run into an unexpected setback... particularly when the safe he's robbing has a faulty lock mechanism... Just a random short story with a slight hint of humor and Tendershipping. BxR Tendershipping Shonen-ai


"Alone again... naturally..." Ryou Bakura sighed as he began sorting through the stacks of financial paperwork. He knew he was fortunate to have such a cushy, high-paying job... but sometimes he wondered if he was a bit _too_ eager to help out. Overtime or not, he was pretty sure being alone in a museum's management office at 10:30 PM was not normal.

Then again, the twenty-three year-old reflected quietly, what _did_ he know of normal? His father was a high-end art authenticator, as well as the co-director of the Domino Art Museum. He'd brought his son into the world of museum exhibits at a young age. Although Ryou enjoyed the beautiful sculptures and romantic paintings, he couldn't help but wonder if he lived a very odd life.

"Well, almost done, anyway..." The pale office worker slid some papers into a large envelope, then walked towards the massive vault at the end of the office.

He carefully nudged a heavy box, full of old newspapers, between the open door and the thick, metal frame. Despite being only a few months old, the safe had recently developed a rather dangerous flaw. Somehow, one of his father's coworkers had managed to get trapped inside last Wednesday. Apparently there was a glitch in the system that locked out the inside keypad- which was the only way to get _out_ once the steel door was closed. Even the emergency call button didn't work- apparently it hadn't been correctly installed, and needed to be re-wired. Mr. Benizakura had to start banging his fists on the thick metal walls to be heard. Thankfully, Mr. Bakura had been in the office at the time, and was able to open the vault door for his distressed colleague.

Ryou wasn't too keen on getting locked inside a stuffy safe this late at night. So he made sure the cardboard box was blocking the heavy steel threshold from fully closing as he stepped inside.

"Let's see... where did father put those files on flood insurance again?" The slender young adult began looking around the enclosed features.

The museum's walk-in safe was quite large, and it had many different shelving and storage units inside. As with most museums, only a small portion of their entire collection was on display. There were simply too many artifacts and artworks to be put out all at once, and many were still being cleaned or studied.

But it wasn't only the museum's excess art pieces that were stored in the vault. Among the many covered paintings and sculptures, there were also several large, metal file cabinets. They held countless paper records; from information on the museum's history, to its financial records, and even the invaluable certificates that authenticated its most priceless artifacts.

Ryou bent over the largest cabinet. He slid open the bottom drawer and started rifling through the musty old folders. "Maybe they're under 'I' for 'insurance'..."

"Well, well- what have we here?"

" _GAHH!"_ Ryou jumped a good foot in the air, automatically slamming the metal drawer shut. "Wha-?!" The startled youth turned to find that he was no longer alone.

There, standing in the metal door-frame of the safe, was an unfamiliar man. His face was covered by a black, knit ski mask, and he was carrying a large, matching backpack. He had dark, crimson eyes and a smirk that suggested wicked intent. Through the holes in the mask Ryou could tell that his skin was pale, like Ryou's own. But something about this stranger's posture made him seem far more 'dark' than light.

The museum clerk was so shocked by the intruder that he failed to notice that the heavy newspaper box had been shifted aside.

"This should be interesting- didn't expect anyone to be here this late. Not that it matters." The unnamed thief smirked behind the cloth mask. "I doubt **you'll** stop me."

Ryou felt his stupor lessening when he realized the man was stepping away from the door. Panicked, the archivist threw out his hands and cried out- "WAIT! _DON'T LET_ _THE DOOR_ _-"_

 ***Ka- _THUNK!_ ***

The heavy door made a loud noise as it fully shut. "Oh, dear..." Ryou Bakura felt his shoulders drop as he realized what had just happened. The intruder, however, failed to grasp the significance. Instead, the arrogant man merely snorted at the employee.

"Relax, runt. I'm just going to help myself to some of these priceless paintings, and then I'll leave you in peace. Or pieces, depending how you behave." The robber then folded his arms in a blatantly threatening manner.

"No, you're not." The other male replied despondently, his gaze still trained on the impenetrable door.

"Eh?" The strange intruder seemed to lose some of his bravado. "What the hell do you mean, 'I'm not'?!" The thief quickly changed his tone, only his time he sounded annoyed. "And who's gonna stop me- _you?!_ "

"No- I doubt I could, even if I tried." Ryou shook his head before pointing to the now-closed door. "But that safe door's been malfunctioning for the past week- it won't open from the inside. The security company's supposed to send someone tomorrow to look at it, but..."

" _What."_ The thief hissed, clearly not believing the museum clerk.

"That's why I had the cardboard box blocking the entryway. But without it..." Ryou trailed off miserably, not bothering to say more.

The still-disguised thief turned around, and quickly paled when he saw the inside keypad. At top of the device was a single, small bulb. But where there should have been a glowing, green light... there was nothing. The plastic number pads for the security code were also supposed to be illuminated, but instead there was nothing but dull, unlit buttons.

"YOU-" The masked man seethed with fury before turning on the other captive. "You _miserable_ little **brat!** _What the hell do you think you're playing at, trying to lock me in here?!"_

Ryou was quickly getting tired of the intruder's attitude, and he folded his own arms. "I'm not trying to do anything. _You're_ the one who broke into my father's office, and then **you** trapped us _both_ in here. This is _your_ doing- not mine."

The taller intruder seemed taken aback by the slighter man's nerve. "You have the _gall_ to insult me?! I should snap your scrawny neck, you miserable pencil-pusher!"

It was getting late, and Ryou felt his patience waning a little further. He raised one hand casually towards the vault door. "By all means, go for it. I suppose that should be very interesting, you trying to explain everything to the police when they arrive in the morning. I'm sure they'll have a hard time solving the case- someone with no ties to the museum (and a criminal record too, I'd wager;) stuck inside our largest safe with a dead director's assistant. Oh yes, that should go over _really_ well for you."

The shy archivist even impressed himself with that final bit of snark- he was usually a rather timid person, but something about this guy was touching his last nerve.

Meanwhile, the burglar's (mostly covered) face was rapidly turning red, and he snarled his next promise. "You insolent little sh*t! They'll be lucky to even _find_ your corpse by the time I'm done with it!"

"Riiiight, because there's so many way to hide a full-grown body in here." Ryou tiredly gestured to the open shelving units and glass display cases. "Unless you want to take the time and effort to dismember me... I'm sure _that'll_ fool the cops- they'd never suspect that the large amounts of blood and mutilation were _your_ doing."

The unnamed trespasser continued to scowl. The gears were turning inside his head, and he felt furious that he'd been trapped. By some pathetic little nerd, no less!

"Tch... sh*t." The thief began pacing, clearly thrown by this change of plans. He turned and nearly shoved his face into the museum clerk's. "What about your cellphone?! Is there a signal in here?!"

Ryou shook his head. "I'm not sure; the safe's rather new, so I haven't been inside it much. But either way, my cellphone's back inside my briefcase, and-"

"Lemme guess:" The pale thief butted in, "It's outside the safe."

The tired employee nodded. "I wasn't planning on spending much time in here." Ryou noticed that the man wasn't rummaging through his own pockets, or the black backpack. "Um, I take it you don't have one on you, either...?"

The prowler finally stopped pacing long enough to face to the other captive. "Tch- what sort of bone-headed burglar would bring a _phone_ with him on a job? Aside from possibly getting him caught, a lone thief has no need for such a device anyway. If you're not prepared enough before heading out, you deserve to be caught."

'Oh, so he broke in on his own... that's good.' Ryou held back a sigh of relief as he tried not to show his inner thoughts. 'I was wondering if he had a group of thugs waiting for him on the other side... not that they would be able to get in here, either...'

The bandit resumed his pacing, clearly unable to accept the fact that he was trapped. Meanwhile, the weary museum clerk sat down, his back against the same wall as the locked door. Ryou Bakura felt his muscles relax as he watched the frustrated intruder. He was feeling more and more certain that this mysterious larcenist wasn't going to harm him.

"Motherfu-!" The annoyed thief gave the closed door a frustrated kick, but achieved nothing more than a very stubbed toe. He hopped around and hissed a bit before resuming his stalking.

Meanwhile, Ryou held back a snort at the comical actions of the trapped bandit. The man certainly seemed more focused on 'escaping' rather than causing his fellow 'inmate' anguish.

A few minutes passed, and the masked robber let out a loud swear before ungracefully plopping down against the same wall.

" _ **Damn**_ it..."

He evidently couldn't see a way out. The still-disguised trespasser turned to glance at the tired museum worker. "How long until someone finally finds us?" He rasped impatiently.

Ryou had been pondering the same question, and replied earnestly. "I'm afraid I don't know... there's a technician coming by in the morning between 8 and 10 AM to fix the door, but honestly; I don't think anyone else will drop by before then."

"Tch- won't anyone notice you're missing?" The robber frowned through his black mask.

The archivist shook his head tiredly. "No- not really. I mean, my father might think it's odd, but he says I'm old enough to do what I like... he rarely keeps tabs on me."

"And, what, he's the only person in the world close to you?"

"Pretty much. My mother and sister died in a car crash several years ago, and most of my friends don't live nearby."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"..."

"...um, and yourself?"

The unnamed burglar snarled and turned his head the opposite way. "Don't start that crap- I'm **not** your friend, so don't try getting all chummy."

"Oh, sorry- I was just trying to pass the time." The archivist openly admitted before looking down at his digital wristwatch. "Not that it matters much- I'm sure I'll be too tired to talk soon. It's already almost past my usual bedtime."

"'Past your bedtime?!'" The thief paused for a moment, before snorting with laughter. "How old are you, _five?!_ Who the hell has a 'bedtime' and a driver's license?!"

"I'm twenty-three." Ryou frowned, starting to get annoyed with the stranger's jabs. "And it's more of a reference point than a strict schedule- which is inevitable for anyone. Even _you_ have to sleep at some point, no?"

The unsociable larcenist snorted. "My day doesn't start 'til noon- _at the earliest_. I sleep during the day, and prowl every night- and I keep whatever 'schedule' I damn well please." The slightly larger man shifted his weight as he leaned against the cold, steel wall. "I'm free."

"Really?" Ryou's face turned somewhat skeptical. "Because to me, that kind of life sounds like the exact opposite of freedom. Always running, always hiding, never certain of when or where or who might turn you in... that's a nightmare at any hour."

" _Yes_ , well, not all of us were born with a silver spoon in our mouth." The stranger replied bitingly. "Sometimes life is really f*cked up, and you have to take what you can get. But if you're good at it, you can rise to the top and finally enjoy life like you're a king."

The pair fell silent, but the museum clerk felt himself somewhat sympathizing with the unusual intruder. 'Is stealing _really_ the best he can aspire to? What a shame...'

A silence fell over the two unwilling captives. The stale air of the safe felt heavy, and though both men were reclined, they could not help but feel a growing sense of foreboding.

'We won't run out of oxygen, thanks to the filtration system... still, the area feels stagnant and dry.' The thief scowled as he reflected on the features of the walk-in vault he'd studied so well. It'd taken him weeks of research, and he remembered every fact- 'The 'Loc-Down' 780 model... designed by Toshiro Yamamoto... 250 square feet... concrete base with reinforced steel beams and coating... virtually fire and explosive-proof... six solid steel hinges... with a drill-proof spindle-wheel on a 10-bolt interlocking door, topped by a virtually uncrackable electronic entry pad...' Two scarlet-colored eyes closed in painful realization. 'F***- I am _so_ screwed...' But the nameless larcenist didn't show his distress outwardly.

Meanwhile, Ryou remained largely unaware of his 'cellmate's' turmoil. It had been nearly forty minutes since the door had shut, and the museum employee was starting to feel the dusty air settling in his own throat.

Ryou gave a quick glance sideways before announcing, "I'm going to grab something." He then stood up, walking towards the other side of the tan file cabinets.

The masked burglar didn't comment, but he did listen as the nerd began digging through what sounded like plastic containers.

"Here." Ryou called out from behind the cabinets.

"Wha-?!" The seated thief jumped as something clear was thrown at him. He managed to catch the cylindrical, plastic container.

It was an unopened water bottle. Ryou made his way around to the front with another bottle.

"We decided to keep a few inside, just in case someone got trapped again... never thought we'd actually need them..." The museum worker gave a soft sigh as he sat down. The young archivist quietly opened up his bottle and began to sip the clear liquid.

The burglar gave the bottle a suspicious glance, but decided he was too thirsty not to accept. He wordlessly twisted off the cap and started chugging the contents down through the mouth-hole in his ski mask.

The other captive stared in confusion. "Um... aren't you getting really warm under there? Why don't you take your mask off?"

"Tch- I don't know what's led you to think that I'm a _fool_ ," the still-disguised thief snarled between gulps, "but believe me- I am no amateur. This mask only comes off _after_ I've hauled away all these pretty paintings. And knocked your scrawny *ss unconscious, of course."

"..." Ryou was getting too tired to argue, and he only murmured in echo: "Oh. Of course." The clerk glanced down as he finished off his own bottle. His wristwatch was still easy to read (thank heavens the safe's lights were still functioning!)- 12:07.

Ryou somehow doubted he was getting home to his own bed tonight. 'Oh dear... I'm really not looking forward to the rest of tonight.' There were plenty of long drapery cloths in the back (mainly used to protect the sculptures from dust and scratches) but nothing resembling a real mattress or pillow.

Besides, could he _really_ trust this mysterious outlaw to not strangle him while he slept? True, he hadn't harmed the clerk so far, but that was likely only because they were trapped. What if the burglar figured another way out? Or just lost his temper?

In the meantime, the thief had nearly drained his own bottle. The cool liquid was much appreciated, but now he also noticed the room's temperature.

"Sh*t..." A few beads of perspiration ran down his pale brow. The insipid little twerp beside him was right- it was definitely too hot. The vault's filter was _supposed_ to have a quiet fan running, circulating all the air inside the safe, but apparently _that_ was malfunctioning as well. _'Damn... this is_ _not_ _how I planned this night would go.'_ With a faint sigh, the irritated bandit grabbed the bottom of his black knit ski-mask and tugged.

Ryou watched in curiosity as the other man removed the stretchy material over his head.

The shy archivist felt his eyes widen in disbelief. _'Whoa...'_

The burglar was barely older than himself- but even more shocking, he was unexpectedly handsome. Ryou gulped as he took in the good-looking stranger beside him. Sharp and deep eyes, chiseled features, and an incredibly arrogant smirk topped a lean-but-fit form. His silvery hair made a wild frame for his pale skin- Ryou almost felt like he was looking at a hotter version of himself.

 _'Wow...'_ The flustered youth failed to notice that he was blatantly staring.

"If you're _really_ planning on memorizing my face for the police sketch artist later, you might wanna be a little more _**subtle**_ about it." The now unmasked man hissed, clearly annoyed with the stares.

"Eh?" Ryou nearly jolted as he turned his gaze back towards the safe floor. "O-oh, no- I was just... um... thinking." His face was strongly flushed, and he only hoped the other man didn't get upset.

"..." The attractive outlaw clearly didn't believe the other captive, but he decided it wasn't worth an interrogation. Instead, he dropped the black mask on the floor beside him and took another drink from the water bottle.

"So... can I call you Mr. Thief?"

The intruder nearly spat out a mouthful water as he replied. _"_ _What?!"_

The archivist shrugged and gave a faint smile. "Well, it's just really awkward, not having a name to call you..."

"First of all, that's a stupid name and I'll paint over those pictures with your blood if you use it. Secondly, I **do** have a name- and it's far more intimidating and manly than 'Mr. Thief.'"

Ryou sighed, not seeing much point to the criminal's overreaching bravado. "Yes, but seeing as how you're not going to _tell me_ your actual name, it'd be nice to have _something_ to use..."

"Not sure we need to exchange words at all..." The thief muttered quietly, but was ignored.

"Hmm..." Ryou suddenly grinned. "Oh, I know! What about, 'Mr. Touzokou'?"

The bandit blinked twice in surprise before smirking approvingly. "The 'King of Thieves,' eh? Yes... I rather like that. Fine, you can call me _that_ \- but anything else and it's your funeral."

The museum archivist sighed- he was starting to get the feeling that 'Mr. Touzokou' was the type to push pre-emptive aggression just for the sake of appearances. "Of course, Mr. Touzokou. And my name's Ryou."

"I didn't ask."

"And I didn't think you would." The burglar felt his shoulders raise in annoyance- presumptive brat! But the shorter captive didn't pause. "But I think it's only fair, since you've been named. Anyway, I'd say 'nice to meet you,' but I suppose that wouldn't sound very sincere in this situation."

"Really? I would never have guessed..." 'Mr. Touzokou' muttered sullenly.

Ryou felt the corners of his mouth twitch, threatening to form a grin. He had a feeling that the other man was almost pouting- in his own odd way, that was.

"Well, if you want something soft to lie on, there's some white, cotton drapery pieces on the back right table- they should be fairly fresh." The exhausted archivist held back a yawn. "Otherwise, there's a few more water bottles left behind the filing cabinets- they're in a cardboard box under the oak desk."

"Yes, _wonderful_." The intruder replied mockingly. He wasn't used to such an optimistic outlook, and quite frankly; he didn't see any reason to be so upbeat. 'I swear, this is going to end badly; one way or another.' 'Mr. Touzokou' sighed and glanced at the dark-tiled vault ceiling. This still wasn't his idea of a successful evening, but at the very least it seemed like they were safe- for now. He glanced over his left shoulder, about to ask 'Ryou' (if that _was_ his real name) about the maintenance crew he'd mentioned earlier.

But the tired clerk's eyes were closed, and he seemed to be lightly snoring.

'Mr. Touzokou' let out an annoyed huff as he turned his head back towards the center of the room. 'Of course...'

Apparently the younger man (23, if his word was to be believed) had fallen asleep in the middle of their last conversation. 'Tch... what a pathetic nerd.'

So 'Mr. Touzokou' was left to silently contemplate his own fate. He was just reflecting on the grim reality of things, when he nearly jumped. Something heavy had suddenly fallen against his left shoulder. "What the-?!"

He glanced aside, only to find a mop of pure, white hair resting against his arm.

'Oh, for the love of-!'

Apparently, the dozing museum clerk had managed to tilt sideways, and was now lightly snoring against the bemused thief's shoulder. The darker man scowled. His first instinct was to shove the little blighter away, but the shallow, steady rhythm of his breathing was almost... melodic.

'Hmph. Foolish little twit. I could easily snap his neck right now- how someone be so stupid, as to trust a freakin' night burglar like myself?!' He tried to jiggle his elbow, hoping to get the pale fool to slide off him. Instead, the twerp slid to the right, his head now resting comfortably between the crook of the thief's arm and the safe wall. The edges of the clerk's mouth turned upwards, and he let out a faint sigh of contentment.

'Is- is that moron smiling in his sleep?!' 'Mr. Touzokou' was now well and truly baffled. It was odd enough to trust a complete stranger, but to fall asleep on a random criminal's arm?!

Despite his bewilderment, the safe robber felt his own guard lowering. He let out a wide yawn as he stared at the warm tangle of white fluff currently covering his left arm. 'What a fool... still, he's not completely... pathetic... just...'

Slowly, the thief's own thoughts fell silent, and his eyelids also closed.

Soon, both captives were quietly slumbering, with neither suffering from troubling dreams.

"Ryou."

A voice he didn't recognize was calling his name. He let out a faint protest as the sounds didn't let up.

"Oy,Ryou! Wake up!"

"No... sleeping..."

"RYOU!"

"Eh?!" The tired employee let out a faint groan as he opened his hickory eyes. "Wha- where am I?"

The unmasked thief rolled his own eyes before replying, "The Four Seasons Hotel- where the hell do you think we are?! The malfunctioning safe, remember?!"

"Oh! That's right!" Ryou gasped as his brain finally caught up with the rest of his body. "We were trapped all night! Goodness, what time is it now..."

"I'm guessing at least 8, since it sounds like the maintenance crew you mentioned is here." The wild-haired thief gestured with one thumb towards the locked door. It sounded as though there were several men on the other side, yelling and occasionally knocking on the safe's thick door.

Ryou quickly pounded back against the metal surface, much to 'Mr. Touzokou's' misgivings. There was a pause from the other side, followed by a lone voice calling out. The muffled words were unintelligible, but Ryou recognized the speaker.

" _Father!"_ Ryou gasped before resuming his hammering on the door. _**"Yes, I'm in here; please get us out!"**_

The various voices on the other side started up again, this time with louder and more excited tones.

Clearly, they knew _someone_ was inside- but Ryou had a feeling they weren't expecting to find two people. His mind racing, he made an abrupt decision.

"Stay by the door- I'll be right back!" He held up one pale palm towards the thief before darting to the other side of the safe.

"Wait- what?!" The confused plunderer stared as the museum clerk began racing around the enclosed area. Ryou quickly began lifting the covers off several of the art pieces, revealing the rich paintings and sculptures underneath.

'Mr. Touzokou' could only watch in utter bewilderment- had the museum worker finally lost his mind? Surely the oxygen wasn't _that_ thin in the room yet?!

Halfway through the collection, Ryou seemed to falter. He mumbled something to himself before suddenly turning back to the thief. "Pick a piece!" He quickly urged.

"Wait, _what?!"_

"Pick a piece, and I'll tell you about it!" The employee hissed urgently.

Not sure what the museum worker's game was, 'Mr. Touzokou' could only look around in confusion. "Er, okay; the 19th century oil painting by the lamp."

"Okay, that's "The River's Weave," painted by Francisco Coviello in 1873 during his sequester in Florence, Italy."

Starting to catch on, 'Mr. Touzokou' nodded. "Got it. 'River's Weave,' Francisco Coviello, 1873 Florence."

Ryou smiled. "You could say it's a bit flat compared to his previous works, but it has a wider color range that intrigues you."

"Flat, but more palette. Ok."

"Great- and it sounds like we're out of time."

 _*_ _Click-click-click-click_ _clickclick_ _-CLANK- **CLANK**!*_

The heavy sound of the metal tumblers moving meant freedom for Ryou Bakura... but to the thief, they sounded like a death sentence. He'd never actually been to prison, and he certainly wasn't looking forward to the experience. But how could he avoid what sounded like at least five other men in the small, outer room?He'd thought on the problem all night (well, most of the night, anyway) and he still couldn't figure a way out that didn't end in handcuffs.

 **'Sh*t...'** It looked like he was going to have to rely on whatever plan his unwilling co-hort had concocted... The bandit stood up, slowly relishing what could very well be his last few minutes of freedom.

Ryou, meanwhile, was watching the over-sized entrance with similar anxiety. 'I hope this works...'

With a loud creak, the round door finally swung open, revealing an older man with pale, blue hair and round glasses.

" _Ryou!"_ The older man quickly embraced his only son. "I was so frightened when I saw you never made it home last night- you didn't even call to- wait, who is this?!" Mr. Bakura seemed shocked to find that his son had company.

Ryou quickly wrapped one arm around the thin bandit's shoulder. He gave a wide grin and gestured politely to the pale robber. "Oh, yes- sorry father, I forgot to tell you yesterday. This is Mr. Touzokou- he's a friend of mine. We met at a private gallery opening last week- he's quite interested in art."

The intruder felt his eyes widen, and his jaw nearly dropped open in shock. He was further surprised to realize that Ryou had somehow managed to hide the black backpack _and_ the ski mask from sight (though when or where, he couldn't fathom).

"Mr. Bakura?" One of the middle-aged technicians interrupted the trio of white-haired men. "Sorry to interrupt, but we need you to enter the personal override code from your account here..."

The moment the other men were distracted, 'Mr. Touzokou' rounded on his slighter host. _"What are you_ _doing_ _?!"_ The burglar whispered furiously.

Ryou kept his voice equally hushed as he replied earnestly. _"Saving you from a prison sentence!"_

" _But- **why?!"**_

The other pale adult gave an enigmatic smile and shrugged. _"You had all night to hurt me. You could've easily overpowered me and tied me up, or killed me. But you didn't. I don't think you're a wicked person. Just..._ _a_ _misguided_ _one. Besides, you didn't really 'break and enter,' because the safe was already open. Not to mention, you didn't even touch anything besides the water bottle I gave you. So you didn't actually commit a serious crime."_

For once, the smooth-tongued burglar was speechless. He gave a single, short nod while the repair team finished with the elder Mr. Bakura.

"Ah, sorry about that." The museum director quickly made his way back to his son and his 'guest.' "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Touzokou. What sort of art are you interested in?"

"A pleasure to meet you as well. I'm particularly fond of oil-paintings, and your son offered me a private tour of the museum's collection. Though I will admit, I wasn't expecting it to be an all-night event!" His glib manner seemed to win over the museum director, and Mr. Bakura smiled as he offered his hand. The two shook as the director elaborated.  
"My apologies, Mr. Touzokou- we've had a devil of a time getting ahold of a technician who can fix this safe. We've always relied on Loc-Down for our museum's security needs; however we may need to switch security providers after this incident." The older man tapped the shining metal hinges and frowned. "This door should've been fixed days ago, but apparently these newer models are so advanced that few specialists in our area are even qualified to work on them."

"Well, it did provide excellent security- we can attest: no one got in or out!" 'Mr. Touzokou' continued with his casual jests.

"Indeed- still, the emergency button should've at least been functioning. That's a distressing oversight I can't overlook." The older man shook his head. "No, I think we'll be switching to Ace Security Systems in the future."

"Stay away from their B-97 line- it's very unreliable. A group of robbers managed to crack one at the Tosago Museum last fall- rather embarrassing for their new director."

Ryou tilted his head in earnest naivety. "I thought they said it was the work of only one man?"

'Mr. Touzokou' blinked in false incredulity. "Really? That's rather impressive work for one person- either way, I'd recommend browsing the Walkinson Safe Company catalog- they're hardly cheap, but they offer unparalleled support."

'But why would he think it so impressive if it was just one- OH.' Ryou nearly facepalmed as he understood what 'Mr. Touzokou' had just revealed. His face reddened slightly, but no one else seemed to notice.

The museum director nodded blithely. "So, I see Ryou took the time to show you his favorite pieces from our collection- may I ask which is your own favorite, Mr. Touzokou?"

The thief casually pointed to the golden-framed painting resting just beside an antique floor lamp. "I'm rather fond of 'The River's Weave.' I'm not usually a fan of Francisco Coviello, but the wider palette really drew my attention."

"Ah, yes- a fine example of neoclassical realism, painted in 1873 during his sequester in Naples, Italy."

"Oh? I thought it was Florence, Italy?" The enigmatic bandit suggested graciously.

"Indeed- it seems I was mistaken."

The covert burglar had to hide a smirk. He had no doubts that the older man had purposely misplaced the painting, as a way of testing him. But thanks to Ryou's coaching, he'd passed with flying colors. Ryou let out a faint sigh as his father gave him a knowing smile. He wasn't _technically_ supposed to bring strangers into the safe room, but if the man was truly a trustworthy art enthusiast...

But apparently Mr. Bakura was even more impressed than either youth had bargained for. "Hmm... forgive me if this seems a bit forward, Mr. Touzokou; but our head of security, Mr. Akame, is retiring this upcoming Fall. We haven't officially posted the job yet, as he only mentioned it to me privately last week." Ryou watched with widening eyes as his father spoke to his 'friend.' "Yet, as much as he'll be missed; we will naturally have to find a replacement for his seat. You seem very knowledgeable, and Ryou seems to trust you extensively. You also managed to stay level-headed despite being trapped in a small room for several hours."

'Mr. Touzokou' managed to hide his shock by looking mildly curious. However, internally, the criminal was struggling not to go with his gut instinct to bolt for the exit.

Evidently the thief's 'poker face' was convincing, as Mr. Bakura carried on without a pause. "My Ryou often works late hours doing research for me, and quite frankly; this incident has startled me. I would feel much better knowing that he has someone looking after him during those long, late nights."

The thief was nearly speechless- a _job_? A legitimate, genuine offer of trust and responsibility? He was about to decline (out of personal principle) when Ryou spoke up.

"Of course, it would mean very late hours, surrounded by darkness." He chirped earnestly. "Not everyone's cup of tea."

'Mr. Touzokou' gave a slight smirk. "I believe I can handle that." He nodded to the museum director. "In fact, I would be very interested in that position- do you have a business card that I might refer to?"

Mr. Bakura easily extracted a flat rectangle from his back pocket. "It'd be best if we could arrange an appointment before next weekend- our founder's council will expect a public posting by that date, so it would be prudent if we could reach an answer beforehand. Otherwise you would have to compete with the general public-" here the older man put one hand to his mouth and lowered his tone, "-which, quite frankly; I'd rather avoid at all costs- the number of people who showed up last time we had someone leave was staggering! I even had to ask poor Ryou to do some 'pro-active hiring' by weeding out some of the obviously 'less qualified' applicants!"

Ryou let out a sigh as he remembered what _that_ request had entailed. "Yes, apparently with the economy on the decline, many job-hunters decided to try their luck despite their previous... experiences." He nearly face palmed in annoyance. "One man was _convinced_ that one of the 'Great Masters' of the Renaissance was named Leonardo Di Caprio... and he became very belligerent when I refused his application..."

"Goodness..." 'Mr. Touzokou' chuckled to himself. "Well, I can assure you; I know the difference between Kate Winslet and the Mona Lisa. But if I should start telling tour members that "The Last Supper" was painted by _Da Artist_ , please feel free to boot me out the front door."

Clearly pleased, the museum director smiled before asking, "And your full name, then?"

"Bakura Sato- though most of my associates simply call me 'Bakura' or 'Mr. Touzokou'."

Ryou struggled to hide his confusion- why would the thief choose such an obviously fake name?! But apparently the man was slier than expected. He faced the director without any hesitation. "I take it you've noticed how my first name is the same as your last." Here 'Bakura Sato' pointed to Ryou. "In fact, that's how we met- the gallery staff mistakenly credited me with a ticket for your son." He pulled out a red leather wallet and showed an ID card, which showed a clear picture of the thief. The black lettering plainly stated that the owner was, indeed, 'Bakura Sato.'

'Oh, that actually _is_ his first name...' Ryou struggled not to let his face show his shock. 'How odd...'

Mr. Bakura also seemed to find the coincidence suspiciously bizarre. "And the 'Mr. Touzokou'?"

Bakura Sato snorted. "A nickname I've garnered- apparently I out-bid a college at an auction, on a painting he much desired. He was rather... unamused, and didn't believe that I was completely unaware of his obsession with that particular artist. So, he decided to bequeath the moniker of ' _The Thief King_ ' on me in retaliation. It's a bit of a lame joke, but apparently it stuck over time... so I decided to keep it."

"Hmm... still, for an art collector to be known as a thief? Rather odd..."

"Well, I think most people see it in an ironic way." Bakura laughed again. "But of course, you meet all _kinds_ of people in this business- which reminds me: did you ever hear of the girl who took an eraser to Gary Simmon's chalk art?"

The older man nodded somberly. "Yes, quite tragic... well, anyway, you have my card, so please call during our listed hours and Ryou will set up a meeting."

"Your offer is very tempting- I'll consider it carefully." Bakura placed the card in his red wallet before shaking hands once more with the museum director. "I'll admit, I've been thinking of a change of pace, and this seems like a good position."

Mr. Bakura grinned. "Well then, Mr. Touzokou; I do believe this could be the start of something very interesting!"

Mr. Sato couldn't resist glancing sideways at the quiet clerk as he spoke. He had to admit, he felt himself growing fonder and fonder of the unusual youth. "Oh, I definitely agree." He grinned at his possible-future-coworker, who gave a soft smile in return. 'Hmm.. yes, this could be the start of something _very_ interesting indeed...'


End file.
